Stick In The Mud?-Personal Narrative

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Why are you such a stick in the mud? Why don’t you ever come out with us? All through high school I was asked those two questions every weekend and every time I would just stand there and shrug my shoulder and say, I don’t know. I wasn’t that I did not want to spend time with my friends because I did want to hang out with them; it was that I did not want to get in trouble.
I come from a town were social statues meant everything to almost everyone. Therefore, parties on the weekend were a very big deal in my town. If you threw an awesome party everyone wanted to be your friend. Along, with the awesome parties every weekend, also came the long police report in the new paper the next morning. Every Sunday morning I would eat breakfast with my
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I had music blasting, listening to Don’t Tell Em by Jeremih and I was dancing around my room as I decided what to wear. I picked out a pair of dark washed skinny jeans, with a whit flowy tank top with a little bit of blind on it, and my gold sandals. I was excited, scared, and nervous all at once. I had no idea what I was in for.
I knocked on Meagan and Chandlers door and it was them and their two other friends who lived next door. They were all taking shots and they even offered me to take some with them, but I passed. Drinking was not my thing for many reasons due to the fact that I watched alcohol destroy my cousin’s life, I watched alcohol get my friends in high school in very big trouble with the police, and I was on medication for my heart. I had nothing against people who drank, but I personally chose not to. They did not seem to mind that I said no, they seemed to respect
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The door opened and it was a sea of people. I have never seen so many people squished into one room. Everyone was screaming and dancing to wicked loud music and sweating. I walked in and I did not know a single person there. I was not comfortable. Meaghan and Chandler started introducing me to other people on the team. They were all welcoming and happy to meet me. I started feeling a little more comfortable. Meanwhile, the music was getting louder, people were drinking in the kitchen, and people were singing on the top of their lungs. I had a bad feeling in the back of my mind and thought of my dad and I sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning reading the newspaper. I started to make my way to the door to leave when there was a knock on the door. I stopped frozen in my tracks and my heart stopped. I knew what was going to happen next. Three RA’s walked into the room saw all the alcohol in the kitchen and immediately asked for our ID’s. I said nothing and shakily gave them my

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